


Safe and Sound

by Merlinnn



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 01:21:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7487823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlinnn/pseuds/Merlinnn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s her, she’s in hospital.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe and Sound

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever TXF fic, please enjoy and comment any criticisms!

He had no idea how many nights he’d spent like this. More than he cared to think about, for sure. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the sound of Skinner’s voice or God, worse, Mrs Scully’s down a scratchy phone - “It’s her, she’s in hospital.”

 

Those words alone sent spikes of fear down his spine. Where was she? How was she? What happened? Was she going to be okay? Was it his fault, again? Did he cause this? Oh God was she going to be okay?!

 

Mulder had mastered the art of driving like a maniac, flying down the highway with his heartbeat in his ears. Why hadn’t he been there? Why wasn’t he there right now? His palms were sweaty on the steering wheel, entire body thrumming. Awful images swam in his mind; blood, pain, tubes. Tubes everywhere, and wires too. Oh God.

 

He was aware he looked half-crazed, like some murderous ex-husband you wanted to avoid. He didn’t care. Hair a mess, t-shirt askew and one shoe left untied. It didn’t matter. 

“I’m looking for someone. It’s urgent. Scully. Yes, Dana Scully. Where is she?” he’d be off before they even finished their sentence. ICU. No, God no. It wasn’t just a scrape of a bullet or some minor cuts, no this was serious. Oh God.

 

Skinner’s hands were like the feet of an ant on an elephant. He was holding Mulder back, restraining him.

“Before you go in there Mulder,” he’d say, voice low and so calm. Why was he so calm? Mulder would push with all his strength. 

“Let me go!” and Skinner would, dropping his hands. Maybe he realised it was futile, as Mulder watched Scully through the glass panes of her room. He was right; a tube spiralled from her mouth to a ventilator, wires on her forehead, on her chest. An IV drip. He stopped feeling anything; the dull pain in his head from the insomnia, the twinge in his shoulder from his own scrape with a deadly weapon. It all faded away to the panic and fear deep in his system. It’s the panic of a child, when their mother disappears in a shop or at a funfair. He’s been here a million times but it never gets better.

 

The room’s empty, he doesn’t know if Mrs Scully is here yet, or Bill. He doesn’t want to face Bill. Not now. Scully’s face is expressionless, eyes sunken and dark circles echoing against her pale skin. If it weren’t for the steady beep of the monitor he would’ve thought her dead. Mulder assumes his position at her side, palm clasped in his. Breathe. In. Out. He hasn’t had a chance to breathe until now, his chest restricting as soon as his phone had rang. Her pulse taps against his fingertip weak, but there. He can imagine it’s Scully. 

 

_ Mulder, it’s me. I’m still here. Don’t give up yet. I’m still here. I’ll be back soon. Everything will be okay. _

 

It’s a hope he clings to. He grabs her chart, flips through it. Wishes for her voice as she explains to him what all of it means.  _ Deadly toxin, source unknown. _ That he recognises.  _ Anti-virals given, low chance of recovery expected _ . Mulder tosses the clipboard away. 

 

He’s not sure what time it is anymore. He can’t remember when he got the phone call, or how long it took to get here. The latest nurse said it was 11pm when she checked up on Scully, but how long ago was that now? Skinner had left just after, making Mulder promise to call if there was an update. He’d nodded, anything to get Skinner to go. His presence set him on edge. It was dark now, the blinds on Scully’s room closed and the lights out in the corridor dimmed to only a low ebb. Mulder could remember a scene similar to this, years ago in a hospital hundreds of miles away.  He’d been in a dark place. He’d been prepared to make a deal with a devil. He’d gone to Scully, snuck in well after visiting hours and sat at her bedside as she slept. He’d grasped her hand to his cheek and cried his silent tears. _ Help me Scully, tell me what to do. I need you _ . He’d gone before daybreak, mind set.

 

This time there were real tears, hot tracks staining his cheeks and a low sob escaping his throat. He was on his knees at her bed, as though praying to God before bed. He was leaving a damp patch on the quilt where his head lay, but he hadn’t noticed.  _ Please, God. Please don’t leave me. Not now. I still need her. She keeps me grounded, keeps me sane. Where would I be without her? Oh God please, please. _ Thank the Lord Skinner wasn’t here. He was a good friend but Mulder couldn’t handle being seen like this, eyes screwed tight and Scully’s hand clenched in his. His head began to pound, he’d cried too much. Mulder fell asleep like that, too tired to drag himself away. All he could focus on was the warm body beside him, a lifeline keeping his head above the water.

 

A crack in the blinds set a dawn light on Mulder’s face. He squinted one eye open into the harsh sun and it took him a moment to remember where he was. A moment later his knees began to complain, cramped on the floor for the night. He could feel the lingering tracks of tears on his cheeks and the puffy flesh ringing his eyes. His mouth was dry. There was- there was a warmth above his head too, a hand. It was Scully’s, he realised, her hand resting on his skull. She must have moved it last night, taken her hand from his own and lain it there. Mulder sat bolt upright, the blanket draping his shoulder slipping away. Scully Scully Scully. She was still attached to the ventilator, eyes shut, but Mulder knew. Scully was going to be okay, she was going to pull through. The morning light pooled across her face and Mulder could see. Her face was no longer deathly pale and her eyes, before sunken and withdrawn now seemed barely closed, as though she was only daydreaming. He moved the hair from her face with a soft gesture, smiling down at her. She was going to be okay.

 

“Fox,” said Mrs Scully, the quiet creaking of the door announcing her arrival. Mulder turned, saw Bill standing beside her. 

“I- I’ll go,” he said and she smiled at him knowingly as he shook her hand and gave Bill a curt nod. He left the room, pausing only to glance at his partner, hand now in the grasp of her mother. Bill stood behind Mrs Scully, face solemn. Mulder could feel the hospital waking up around him and knew that whether it was the cross around her neck or the strength of her beliefs, Scully was going to be okay. 


End file.
